Hands
by LauraMaeH94
Summary: A case hits Jane hard, but Maura is there to help. Basically fluff. Slightly OOC.


**A/N: It's been a while since I posted. I've spent a few days writing this, really wanting to take my time and do the idea justice. May be slightly OOC but go with it.**

**[Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I offilliated with the **_**Rizzoli and Isles**_** franchise. All characters belong to the franchise, however the ideas belong to me.]**

The apartment was quiet, the television abandoned almost an hour ago in favour of soft music.

Nora Jones.

Maura's choice.

When Jane had left the kitchenette to take a shower, Maura had switched even that off, content to sit quietly on the couch rubbing behind Jo Friday's ears.

She didn't even notice that the water had not been turned on, that the pipes were not creaking in the walls. Not until Jo's head lifted off her lap, nose pointed in the air, ears pricked.

The dog sniffs the air; grumbles.

Maura listens, trying but failing to pick up on what has roused the dog.

That is when she notices; when she realises.

She rises, moves quickly. Jo Friday pads behind her.

The bedroom door is closed, and she rests her ear gently against it, vainly trying to hear through the barrier.

She is greeted with silence.

Jo whines, looking up at Maura, insistent.

The doctor raps her knuckles lightly on the door.

No answer.

She calls out softly.

Silence.

The doorknob twists easily in her hand, the door giving way almost on its own.

The room is dark, save for the limited amount of light coming from behind the almost-closed bathroom door.

Her eyes take a moment to adjust.

Jo's don't. The dog moves on instinct, jumping onto the bed, coming to rest against the bare back of the figure sitting on the edge.

She waits there patiently for Maura.

Moving slowly so as not to startle her friend, the doctor calls out again.

"Jane?"

As she moves in front of the detective, Maura catches a glimpse of the angry purple bruise that snakes its way up Jane's left side.

The woman is staring blankly into the small ensuite, her face drawn and pale. Her shirt has been discarded, as have her pants, leaving her resting in her underwear and bra. She looks lost; vulnerable; child-like.

Maura bends down until her eyes are level with her friend's.

The woman is shivering.

"Jane?" She tries again. "What's wrong?"

The detective blinks once.

Twice.

Three times, finally meeting the doctor's concerned gaze.

She draws in a shaky breath, and lets it out again in a sigh.

"It…" she began, looking around bleary eyed.

She stopped, eyes glazing over.

Maura reached up, hands taking hold of Jane's upper arms.

They were cold to the touch.

Maura waited, giving her friend time.

Jane looked back, drawing in another breath.

"It got cold," she stated meekly, eyes meeting the floor.

Maura nearly collapsed in sadness at the hopelessness in her friend's voice.

"Oh sweetheart," she whispered, standing up and reaching for the throw rug at the end of the bed. She draped it over her friend's shoulders, pulling it together tightly in front of Jane, before sitting next to her on the bed. Her arm found its way around the detective's shoulders where it rested there gently, careful not to aggravate the raw grazes that she knew were there.

Maura took a deep breath, unsure of how to continue.

When a rather strong wave of shivers ran through the lithe frame perched next to her, she had an idea.

She rose without a word and walked purposefully into the adjoining bathroom. Jane's eyes left the floorboards momentarily to follow her friend into the bathroom, where she quickly lost sight of the blonde.

Back in the bathroom, water poured out of the tap as Maura went in search of some bath oils.

She found them shoved at the back of the cupboard, unused.

She poured a generous amount into the slowly-filling tub.

Steam began to rise, wrapping the gloriously comforting smell of lavender around the doctor.

It follows her out into the dark bedroom, where she reaches for Jane's hands, pulling her into a standing position. The blanket falls from her shoulders, collecting in a pile at their feet.

"Come here," Maura coos, leading Jane gently into the warm bathroom.

She positions Jane on the bath mat, turning the taps off, smiling at her friend before heading toward the door.

"I'll leave you to it," she says as she reaches the door.

She's nearly made it to the bedroom door before a weak voice calling her name stops her, hand on the doorknob.

"Jane?" she calls, unmoving, unsure if she really heard her name.

"Maur-"

The desperation that she hears in that soft call is enough to form a lump in her throat, and she moves swiftly back to the bathroom, opening the door slowly.

Jane is standing where she left her, except she has turned to face to door. Tears brim her eyes.

Maura remains in the doorway, hoping that Jane might talk.

She just looks forlornly at her hands, knuckles bruised a deep shade of purple, palms mottled in coldness.

"I can't-" Jane hiccups.

She looks up at Maura.

"My hands. They…They're useless."

"Jane," Maura breathes.

She steps forward and gently wraps her hands around Jane's, rubbing her thumbs soothingly over the raised scars.

"They're not useless, just cold," she says.

Jane looks at her feet, her toes just as cold as the rest of her body. Despite herself, tears begin to trickle down her cheeks, some dropping onto the tiled floor.

Maura releases Jane's hands and tucks her right fingers under her friend's chin, bringing her head back up to meet her eyes. Her left hand gently wipes the tears from the brunette's eyes.

"C'mon," she says, moving to stand behind her friend, helping her to remove her bra, before hooking her fingers under the waistband of Jane's underwear, pulling them down for Jane to kick off.

Standing behind Jane she finally gets a good look at the scratches on her back, some of which are still oozing.

She moves to Jane's right side, her left hand gripping her friend's arm just above the elbow, while her right grips just above her wrist. She holds on tightly as her friend throws her left leg over the side of the tub, and supports her as she slides carefully into the warm embrace of the water.

Jane lets out a sigh as her eyes close and she slides further into the bath.

"Nice?" Maura smiles.

Jane just nods, eyes still closed, tears stopped for now.

"Okay," Maura nods, deciding to give Jane some privacy. "I'll be out in the kitchen if you need me."

"Wait," Jane panics, eyes opening, head snapping up.

When she catches her friend's eyes she seems to lose some confidence. She brings her legs up to her torso, feeling suddenly exposed.

Maura sees the shift in her friend's demeanour. She turns from the door, bending down next to the tub, making herself level with Jane.

She waits.

"Stay."

So quiet she thinks she's misheard.

"Pardon?"

A deep breath.

Fearful eyes meet hers.

"Stay. Please?"

She nods, settles more comfortably beside the bathtub.

They sit in silence for some time, Jane enjoying the way the water feels against her aching body, Maura lost in thought.

Jane speaks first, once again speaking so softly that Maura nearly misses what she says.

"I thought I'd gotten to her in time."

She stops.

Maura waits.

"She was so small. And so cold."

Her voice cracks.

A deep breath; in through the nose, out through the mouth.

"I thought…I got past him. He tried…I was on the ground, and he was…he was so big. And she was so, so small."

A shudder.

More deep breathing.

Sad, desperate eyes search for comfort.

They find it, and breathing comes easier.

"He pinned me, Maura. I thought…that look in his eyes. I've only seen it a few times before. I knew what he wanted to do. But I fought-"

A hiccup.

The tears threaten to fall.

"I got up. I got out. And I found her."

Tears stream from wide, dark orbs.

"And for a split second…I thought…but she…I was wrong."

Desperate eyes search the doctor out.

"How could I be so wrong, Maura?"

Shoulders begin shaking. Eyes withdraw their sharp gaze.

Jane's thin body struggles to stay together under the enormous weight of her grief.

Arms scramble to hold knees, trying vainly to hold the pieces in place.

But she is not strong enough.

"She was so small."

It becomes a chant.

"So, so small."

It is wheezed out between deep, shuddering sobs.

"So, so small."

And then the water level rises.

A firm body presses against her back.

Strong arms wrap her in an embrace.

"No!" she cries, and for a second the other woman thinks she has hurt her.

"Your clothes," she sobs despairingly.

"Not important," comes the reply, and then the sobs return.

But this time she isn't falling apart, because someone else is there to hold her together; to hold her up.

And just for a moment, Jane thinks she is going to be okay.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it.**


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